Controlled and Fenced
The sickness that continues to brew,
In the minds of people...
Should be of no surprise at all!
It is a succession of events.
Witnessed by those with common sense.
And those who are lost...
Continue to pay the cost!
And that price is getting rather dense,
For those with mindsets kept controlled...
And fenced!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Business of Sickness
The business of sickness that sits,
Twisting some to pieces...
Increases mindsets,
To believe their ways are just.
The madness allowed...
To silence common sense,
Now chases everyone
Haunted by 'fun' still dispensed!
And innocent jokes done,
By those who are now on the run.
Keeps profits pocketed,
From the dung that's been slung!
And challenged they are by the onslaught,
Of a creeping sludge that overcomes!
Grieving in silence,
As violence continues to churn.
This is a cruel and mean existence.
But these are the 'standards' taught to digest,
And those who are against them are spurned!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Common Sense Is Missing
Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!
Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!
And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!
And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bravado
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
If we burn our wings
Flying too close to the sun
If the moment of glory
Is over before its begun
If the dream is won --
Though everything is lost
We will pay the price,
But we will not count the cost
When the dust has cleared
And victory denied
A summit too lofty
River a little too wide
If we keep our pride --
Though paradise is lost
We will pay the price,
But we will not count the cost
And if the music stops
Theres only the sound of the rain
All the hope and glory
All the sacrifice in vain
[and] if love remains
Though everything is lost
We will pay the price,
But we will not count the cost
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Value Of It All
When does the teaching process end?
And the learning of lessons begin...
Starting the arrival of experience?
And not far behind is a common sense,
Waiting to be triggered without a nudge?
It is there connecting all of this,
Without a budge!
Ready when needed.
However...
If a mind relies too much on books,
To lead to a life reflecting what is written...
As common as it may seem,
A sense expected is missing.
And if a mind begins to lose sight
Of experience, lessons taught
AND common sense...
There will be problems.
Big time ego ones!
Who pays?
And at what cost?
Especially...
If the value of it all is lost!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When a Mind Becomes Opposed
Can one protect from their own paranoia?
And who determines this is cost effective?
Especially when there is suspicion,
Of mental detention.
When a mind becomes oppose,
To common sense and suggestions...
Recommendations for medical care,
Is lost!
Becoming a waste of time.
Since apparently a vacancy is obvious
In those kinds of minds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lifted to a Fever Pitch
The sickness is being lifted to a fever pitch.
With none of it regarded as sensible,
To those of common sense.
As those of higher consciousness,
Have risen above and beyond this illness.
While those still stuck in mindsets...
Of throwing sticks and bricks,
Like 'kids' who seek attention...
By getting it with their tantrum fits.
Do not envision this chapter closing!
And this they perceive,
Will be tolerated and allowed...
With the same affect,
As expected by a spoiled child.
But the rod God uses upon them...
Comes.
And will be fierce to quiet all aggrevation.
With a welcome that stuns very soon.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Fixed Mindsets Have Been Focused
Common sense is not obtained,
Through an academic process.
Not any that reflects wisdom respected,
By the many earning college degrees.
If experience could be taught,
And brought to a mind fixed on 'things'...
All of life and the quality of it,
Would have had witnessed the benefits of this.
But too busy are those in mental modes,
Driven to succeed and address their greed.
And when fixed mindsets have been focused,
On acquiring attention freed of comprehension...
There is no peace or rest to get if not earned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Out Of Their Minds With An Accepting
Choosing to remain uninformed,
But in a constant curiosity...
About what goes on in other people's lives.
As the World continues to spin,
News events.
Printed in papers and on TV...
As neighborhoods everywhere,
Become more incensed with violence.
Says this about that...
It is no mystery,
More people are finding they've become...
Out of their minds.
With an accepting of it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We are finite creatures. Our lives are small and can only scientifically consider a small part of reality. What's common for us is just a sliver of what's available. We can only see so much of the electromagnetic spectrum. We can only delve so deep into extensions of space. Common sense applies to that which we can access. But common sense is just that. Common. If total sense is what we want, we should be prepared to accept that we shouldn't call infinity weird or strange. The results we've arrived at by accepting it are valid, true within the system we use to understand, measure, predict and order the universe. Perhaps the system still needs perfecting, but at the end of day, history continues to show us that the universe isn't strange. We are.
quote by Michael Stevens
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Love Is The Price
RAP 1:
BABY'S IN THE PARLOUR
WAITING FOR THE RAIN
BEATING LIKE A HAMMER
WASHING OUT HER PAIN
CLEARING LIKE THE ONE
SEVEN YEARS AGO
WHEN HER FIRST BIG LOVE
MELTED LIKE SNOW
BACK THEN SHE DOUBET
IF SHE WOULD EVER FIND A MAN
WHO COULD LOVE HER THAT WAY
THE SAME WAY AGAIN
AND JUST WHEN SHE THOUGHT
SHE'S LIVING IN VAIN
THE MAN OF HER DREAMS
CAME LIKE THE RAIN
REFRAIN:
WHEN LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK
EVERYTHING IS LOST
LOVE WILL BE YOUR PRICE
AND I KNOW I WOULD NOT CHANGE A THING
YES I KNOW I WOULDN'T CHANGE A THING
RAP 2:
THEY SPOKE ABOUT HER DREAMS
THEY SPOKE ABOUT LOVE
THEY SPOKE ABOUT THE THINGS SHE WAS SO AFRAID OF
HE HAD THE KEY-WORD
FOR EVERYTHING SHE FELT
SO IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG
TILL HE GOT HER NAILED
PIN ONE'S HOPE ON SOMEONE ELSES LIFE
AND ALL YOUR DREAMS
WILL HURT YOU LIKE A KNIFE
SHE SOON GOT LOST
WHEN LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
REFRAIN:
WHEN LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
LOVE IS THE PRICE
FREEDOM IS THE COST
AND JUST WHEN YOU THINK
EVERYTHING IS LOST
LOVE WILL BE YOUR PRIZE
AND I KNOW I WOULD NOT CHANGE A THING
YES I KNOW I WOULDN'T CHANGE A THING
RAP 3:
SHE DIDN'T TRUST THAT VERY FIRST MAN
TO COME INTO HER LIFE TRYING TO UNDERSTAND
WHAT NOBODY EVER COULD BEFORE
HE ONLY MADE HER SEE
THERE IS SOMETHING MORE
TO LEARN ABOUT FREEDOM
TO LEARN ABOUT LOVE
TO HANDLE ALL THE THINGS SHE WAS SO AFRAID OF
TO ALWAYS FOLLOW WHAT SHE REALLY FELT INSIDE
EVERYTHING ELSE WAS A ROLLERCOASTER RIDE
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pride Of The Flag
Fourth of August (1914) war was declared,
Thousands to the cause they flocked, they appeared not scared.
'Do their bit, do their stuff,
all be over by Christmas! ! '
Four years the war grinds back and forth, opposing lines,
carnage and brutality, as insanity shines.
750,000 had died,
200,000 plus never found, forever lost,
common sense it seems was never tried,
at unforgivable cost.
Generations perished,
what a price.
Is our freedom cherished?
Do we ever think of their ultimate sacrifice?
Pride of the flag,
to their deaths it did drag.!
poem by Guy Lipmore
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The One
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Heard you had a story to tell
Sold your soul in a kiss and tell
Sliding down on a helter skelter ride
Into yesterday
No way out, the price of fame
Once its told will you be the same
Rolling down on a roller coaster ride
Well be waiting for you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Shock the world with your fall from grace
Glory days gone without a trace
No surprise youre a face without a name
But we all still love you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Its time to tell you
Were faithful and true
Take us back to the days
When we could dream
cos it makes us happy
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free to Love But
Free to love but...
Not convinced of it.
Wanting more to condense love,
Into something called 'common sense'.
Knowing nothing is common,
About that feeling!
Free to love but...
Overprotective.
And afraid to be hurt by it.
As if love is filled with pain.
As if to give it someone gains,
An upper hand to manipulate.
And many wish it can be controlled,
With understanding conditions issued.
Although wanting nothing to do with feeling confined.
But that's what love is...
An entrapment of some kind in our minds,
We wish freed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What For Them Was Isn't
What for them was isn't.
Like the taste of a lollipop,
That has faded from one's memory.
The activity is remembered.
But the flavor of it is gone.
And many are trying to hold onto it.
With a savor craved...
That brings them to the edge,
Of a tantrum fit!
Since what sits in their minds from yesterday,
Hasn't for them really gone away.
They want it returned!
They want it to stay!
They feel betrayed by an enslavement made!
What for them 'was'
ISN'T anymore.
Or will be again.
For anyone else to be explored!
Those heard droaning in a whining moan...
Are lost and locked in a consciousness,
Soon to be all their own.
What for them was isn't.
It's never coming back!
That's a fact they wished attacked.
But from a clock that has stopped its tick tocking...
The hands on it sit!
And there is no movement witnessed from this.
There is no movement witnessed from this.
And there is no movement witnessed from this.
There is no movement witnessed from this.
No movement,
Is witnessed from this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Delight of Crossword Puzzles
Since 1913 the crosswords have beguiled our minds,
Moreover, giving our word power a needed boost.
So our lexicon goes thru nimbleness of all kinds,
Searching dearly to come up with words of little use.
Of course every solver has his own personal style,
So as to enjoy the commonly encountered sense of awe.
Completing the corners first may award you a smile,
As the central clues are allowed time to fully thaw.
It's said these games have stimulated us for a hundred years,
Guiding us along from social studies and current events,
To virtually trekking the north and south hemispheres,
And keeping our minds dancing over segments of suspense.
May these games continue to stoke the flames of human wit,
While employing a hint of humor to coax us to deeper study.
Enjoying the endless border crossings with no need for permit,
We cross the world's deserts and swamps never getting muddy.
poem by Albert Price
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Mind Fed Rituals
When determined people,
Pray to God to have their way...
And God sends to them messengers,
To scream from bullhorns...
This is not going to happen.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
People like this will make their mission,
To enlist others to value their point of view.
Even to select and depict those unknowing,
They have been chosen as culprits...
By someone who did not like,
How they were told...
To remove their rose colored glasses!
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
And the 'spiritual' side of it...
Is a routine of mind fed rituals,
Outdated by a lack indepth perception.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
A common sense for many,
That has been diluted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Flee From Their Own Willfulness
Will there be a scramble for lifeboats and flights,
When the seriousness of life...
Finally dawns in those minds that have blinded truth,
From their eyesight.
Will the absence of logic instantly find common sense?
And where will folks go,
To flee from their own willfulness...
That implemented the spreading of a successful ignorance.
Will people stop to pack luxuries,
In leather bound suitcases and branded designer bags?
And where will they take their 'priceless' items...
To isolated islands where the beaches are free of oil slick?
And where will they take their mindsets that are somewhat sick?
As they seat aboard exclusive spaceships,
Heading to other planets in beliefs...
To repeat their wickedness will bring to them relief!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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True Gems
Talents associated,
With money that could be made...
Comes from minds fixed on dollars and cents.
And environments with them living within...
Reflect,
A lack of respect and common sense dispensed.
Those with talents and of good deed,
Are gifted beyond belief.
But overlooked are those,
With nothing glittering to expose and show.
That gleams with a material significance.
And sad are the mindsets needing this to be convinced.
However,
It is quite unfortunate that people like this...
Aren't considered the true gems of their communities.
Unless they are dripping with eye popping treasures,
That raises their influence to please those wishing to release...
Their pretentions and embellished fantasies.
'Little boy...
Would you like to sell your soul,
For the taste to parade a few trinkets? '
~Would you like to feel my foot up your ass?
I'm 'not' your little boy! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sick With Self Inflicted Pain
Heads thick and fantasized,
Have minds closed and prevent...
Abilities to reason.
Or rationalize with common sense.
Many minds like these,
Are not often seen sitting on fences.
Minds encouraged and convinced,
Become defensive...
When shown they are wrong.
And an offensiveness begins...
To shutdown with a stubbornness,
That creates their own unhealing wounds!
Heads thick and fantasized,
Have minds closed and prevent...
Abilities to reason.
Or rationalize with common sense.
And around those with heads thick,
Are walls cemented with a lifetime...
Of an ignorance sick with self inflicted pain.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Paid In Full
There are wars that are to be won
And there are wars to be lost
There are lives to be saved
And there are lives to be lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are victories that are deserved
And even in those wins, something is lost
There are deaths that are deemed necessary
Despite that, their honor is never lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are people that do not agree
And believe that the world is lost
There are others that say it’s saved
Only if the doubt and negativity are lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are soldiers that believe in a cause
And believe that American values are not lost
There are my bothers that fight on the line
And there are the brave ones that we have lost
It is those who have paid the higher cost
poem by C.R. Ebowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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